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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25165648">One drunken night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut'>ChocoNut</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Modern JB love [29]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:21:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25165648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime makes a phone call.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Modern JB love [29]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One drunken night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Angsty, but, as always with me, Jaime and Brienne get a confession and a HEA :)<br/>Thanks for reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I love you, wench.”</p><p>The phone almost slipped from her hand, and stunned into a state of numbness, Brienne sank into the nearest chair. Was this was a dreamy concoction of her imagination? Her wishful thinking coming to life?</p><p>“Jaime,” she feebly replied, when her brain unfroze. “What are you--”</p><p>“I love you,” he repeated, his voice, husky, his speech, slurred. “I tried hard to keep it to my--myself, but--” a few seconds of heavy breathing, amplified because he was probably holding the phone too close to his mouth, filled her ear “--I can’t anymore.”</p><p>More exhalation followed. Sweat all over her palm and fingers, it was almost impossible to hold the phone now.</p><p>“Wench--”</p><p>“Are you drunk?” His unsteady tone, the constant huffing and laboured signs of breathing -- it all pointed her in one direction. He wasn’t doing this in his senses. This might not even be <em> him </em>talking.</p><p>“A bit,” he admitted, “but that doesn’t alter how I feel about you. I--” He paused again, apparently hesitant for want of a suitable response from her.</p><p>Brienne didn’t know how to react. On the one hand, her heart soared at this unexpected revelation that he reciprocated her feelings, but on the other, it felt too good to be true. Would he even remember this conversation tomorrow morning?</p><p>“Say something, wench.” She could sense the plea in his tone, the anxiety of the wait she was putting him through. “Nothing changes between us if it’s a <em> no </em>--”</p><p>“It’s--” Her tongue felt like lead. “Jaime--”</p><p><em>I love you, too, </em>she was about to say, but held back when she noticed that it was past one in the morning, when she realised that today happened to be--</p><p>With a jolt, she recalled this day, last year, of what she’d been through, courtesy the practical Fool’s day pranks she had to suffer at the hands of Jaime, Bronn and Tyrion.</p><p>Which meant that this so-called confession her friend was feeding her with--</p><p>
  <em> This is all a fucking April fool joke... </em>
</p><p>Her heart shrunk to a tiny ball, sinking down to her belly after flooding her chest with a crushing pain of disappointment and the pinching realization that Jaime could never be hers. He belonged to the league of pretty women like Cersei and Margaery, whereas she--</p><p>“I’m waiting, Brienne.”</p><p>Sliding the phone down her ear, she stared at it for a while, recalling every Fool’s Day the mischievous trio had had a laugh at her expense. </p><p>A couple of years back, it had been Tyrion <em> accidentally </em> letting slip to her that Jaime was no longer in love with Cersei, that he’d fallen for another, the news, giving her hope that maybe--just <em> maybe </em>, he harboured more than friendly affection for her. Sadly, it had been no more than a joke. Jaime had stuck on with dating his girlfriend for about a year after that.</p><p>Last April, it was Bronn who had pulled the trigger, telling her that Jaime had decided to ask her out. But nothing happened except for her hope crumbling to bits. But she decided to sweep away the broken pieces and move on as if nothing had happened. They continued to remain friends after that until now--</p><p>Until the third time in a row.</p><p>“Brienne,” she could hear him calling out from the earpiece. “Are you still with me--”</p><p>“I have to go.”</p><p>Swamped by a rush of emotions, she disconnected the call and tossed the phone away. Tears pricking the corners of her eyes, she dived into the soft, comforting warmth of her bed and pulled the covers to her chin.</p><p><em> He can’t hurt me, </em> she made up her mind, shutting her eyes tight. <em> Not this time. </em></p><p><br/>
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</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p><br/>
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</p><p> </p><p><em> She loves you, </em> Bronn and Tyrion had declared in confidence, injecting him with the courage to take the plunge, pushing and prodding and urging him, for days-- <em> no </em>, for weeks, to seek her out alone and tell her the truth.</p><p>And for days, Jaime had been dodging, unable to keep his feelings to himself, yet, not bearing the nerve to bare his heart to her. Until last night--</p><p>Until he’d found the requisite courage in a healthy dose of whiskey to speak out his mind.</p><p>Until she had, very ruthlessly, decided to cut off -- both the phone call as well as him from her life.</p><p>The whole fucking day had gone by with him sitting on thorns. After she’d abruptly hung up on him, he fell flat, hoping to make a new beginning this morning, waiting for his hangover to pass. She didn’t turn up at work today, reporting sick, an obviously desperate attempt to keep out of his way. All day, he’d flooded her with texts she chose not to respond to, calls she deliberately decided to miss. </p><p>It was obvious he was the cause for her ill-health, her sudden transformation into a recluse, shunning him, staying away from their friends.</p><p>Tonight, right now, he had to find out. He had to know what he’d done to hurt her so badly that she’d been driven to mete out such a horrible punishment to him. </p><p>The drive to her place was far from easy, his clouded mind and overflowing emotions taking his mind off the road more than once, bringing him on the brink of an accident he’d only managed to avert thanks to his sharp reflexes. Everything around was a blur. He could think of nothing else, couldn’t concentrate. All that stood before him, was her.</p><p>And her curt response which kept stabbing him in a loop. Again and again and again, each time, deeper than before.</p><p>In a trance, he parked the car and shot up the stairs, and when he’d made it to her doorstep, to his surprise, not a flicker of nervousness, he felt. Nothing like last night. All that was consuming him was the fervent need of an answer. And tonight, he wouldn’t leave her place without getting one.</p><p>“Jaime.”</p><p>Her face puffy and dark circles beneath her eyes, she looked like she’d not slept all night.</p><p>“You okay?” he asked, forgetting his agitation at the sight of her tired and sorry state. “You don’t look very well--”</p><p>“I’m fine.” Curt and crisp, she sounded like she’d be more than happy to see his back.</p><p>If he had to get anywhere, he had to start with ignoring her caustic welcome. “Can I come in?”</p><p>Hesitant, at first, she took a moment to decide, then stepped aside to let him in. “What can I do for you, Jaime?”</p><p>“Why not try to explain yourself for starters?” he demanded, the icy indifference in her eyes, the careful distance she kept from him, bringing back his rage and frustration with full force. “I’ve been trying to repeatedly reach you, asking if I can come over and speak to you--”</p><p>“I haven’t been reading any messages.”</p><p>Jaime shoved his WhatsApp screen into her face. “Blue ticks,” he showed her, “which clearly means--”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ve been avoiding you.” Angry blotches of red began to appear on her cheeks. “I have no wish to have this conversation or any other--”</p><p>“Do you love me?”</p><p>Her mouth fell open, and she stared at him, taken aback by the bluntness of his question.</p><p>“Answer me, Brienne.” He searched her face for signs of denial, and finding none, a faint glimmer of hope began to take life in his mind. “I’m not leaving tonight without hearing you tell me one way or the other.”</p><p>“No,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I don’t love you--”</p><p>“You do.” Her words were bitter but her eyes screamed the opposite. Loud and clear, her heart was calling out to him, seeking out his. “You’re lying, wench--” </p><p>“So what if I am?” Her trembling voice told him she was cracking, and all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and soothe her with his kisses. “Why do you care--”</p><p>“<em>Why do I care? </em>” Feeling hollow and, oddly, stamped on by a heavy weight at the same time, he approached the enraged woman. “I wouldn’t have spent the whole night sleepless and brooding over the way you weeded me off that night if I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have tried calling, messaging you several times, wouldn’t have made it all the way here if I didn’t--”</p><p>“That phone call was a bloody joke,” she cried, blinking furiously, “and everything that followed it, just your way of apologizing for the cruel trick you played on me--”</p><p>“A joke?” He couldn’t believe his ears. “What the fuck--”</p><p>“Fool’s day, remember?”</p><p>
  <em> Shit. Shit. Shit. </em>
</p><p>Jaime felt like banging his head on the wall. After all his self-introspections and deliberations, he’d overlooked the date, chosen the wrong day to open up to her.</p><p>“For a moment, I actually believed you, Jaime,” she croaked, tears beginning to fill those pretty eyes, “believed that you--”</p><p>“You think I’d stoop to the level of playing with a woman’s feelings?” That she even thought him capable of that, pained him. “I’m not that shallow, Brienne. I just didn’t bother to check the date, that’s all. Never thought it would have such a heavy implication. Everything I said last night was--”</p><p>“It isn't just about last night.” She prowled a few paces then returned to him. “What about today last year when Bronn led me on with a story that you were going to ask me out?”</p><p>“That wasn’t some story he made up,” Jaime jumped up in defense, recalling how he’d developed cold feet soon after he’d made all plans to approach her. “I really did want to ask you, but when I saw you with Renly the night I finally plucked up the nerve to get it out, I decided to withdraw.” How he’d burned with jealousy at that sight! “I thought you were in love with him.”</p><p>“I wasn’t in love with Renly,” she muttered in angry correction. “All I did was have lunch with him a few times.”</p><p>“Well, that could be construed as a series of dates, you see--”</p><p>“What about the year before last--” she swiftly switched the subject “--when Tyrion excitedly informed me that you were ready to break up with Cersei?”</p><p>“I was about to. And I had already fallen for you by then, though I hadn’t quite known it,” he thought aloud, reminded of the day he was hit by the realization that he wasn’t in love with Cersei. “Sadly, her hold on me was too strong. But--” he added on an afterthought “--I should’ve tried harder to resist her when she emotionally blackmailed me.” The fire in Brienne’s eyes began to die down, and he took the liberty to touch her face, to wipe away the stray teardrops that rushed down her cheeks. “Trust me, Brienne. I may have drunk-dialled you last night, but every word I said--”</p><p>“Oh stop it--” she took in a deep breath “--just... just--” Her voice choked, she couldn’t speak further.</p><p>He had to find a way salvage the situation, to save his drowning ship, but her distracting gaze had him scavenging his mind for suitable words. “Brienne, I--”</p><p>“I love you, Jaime.”</p><p>Throwing her arms around his neck, she broke down completely on his chest. He wrapped her in an embrace, rubbing his hands along her back to soothe her, letting her allow it to pass. He held her, letting her know in more than words that she could always count on him, that she would always have someone to turn to, a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on. </p><p>With a gentle squeeze of her waist and a light kiss on her head, he showed her that he would be there for her in joy and sadness, in sickness and health, until--</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Brienne looked up at him when she’d recovered, sheepish and embarrassed. “I misunderstood. Last night was nothing short of agony for us, but--” she bit her lip, her face turning beet-red “--there’s a way I’d like to make it up to you.”</p><p>Before Jaime could ask, she was kissing him, wiping away all the pain, the ache, the dullness within him. A sweet caress of his lips with hers, it had begun as, but when he pulled her tighter into his arms, it was well on the way to turning into a torrid manifestation of their bottled-up desire for each other. He kissed her harder, deeper, and she parried his advances with aggression, her mouth, her tongue, claiming and capturing what was hers with a hunger that left him gasping and panting and pressing his body into hers. </p><p>“Jaime,” she whispered with a shudder, the soft curves of her breasts pushing into his chest when his erection skimmed her thighs. “Let’s make the most of tonight. We’ve already lost more than a year. Let’s--”</p><p>Stopping her with his mouth, Jaime picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.</p><p>Tonight, he wanted to be himself with her, uncovered and uninhibited, in body, mind and soul.</p><p>Tonight, he resolved to make sure he told her all he’d been bursting with, all that had been in his heart but failed to make it to his lips.</p><p>Tonight, he would pamper her with soft kisses, make her shiver under his touch.</p><p>Tonight, he’d take her to the moon and show her the stars; he’d give her a feel of pleasure and the sensation of being loved. </p><p>Laying her on the bed, he gently began undressing her, his mouth wandering over every bit of skin he uncovered, slowly, sensually, the pressure of his lips, eliciting soft sighs, each swirl of his tongue, leaving her breathing heavily and moaning his name.</p><p>Her nimble fingers took control, working swiftly to release him from his clothes, and he surrendered, ready to drown in her soulful eyes, eager to dissolve into her touch.</p><p>When they sought comfort in each other’s arms, when the raw heat of skin seared into skin, when their bodies became their blankets and sweat mingled with sweat, when their wanton cries overlapped and their needy grunts became one, Jaime wanted to give her the world.</p><p>He let her know with words and more that she was the one, that she would be, always.</p><p>And tonight, he didn’t have to rely on alcohol to provide him with a crutch of support.</p><p> </p>
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